


One Thousand Makes An Hour

by TheTalkingRooster



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Headcanon, Minor Character Death, There Will Be Sadness, There will be fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTalkingRooster/pseuds/TheTalkingRooster
Summary: "The reputation of a thousand years may be determined by the conduct of one hour."How did the famous Chairman Rose get to where he was now? In jail for unleashing a uncontrollable Pokémon that could’ve destroyed the whole region. Well, there are many ways to answer that question but let’s make things simple and begin from a simple Pokémon battle. A champion one.tldr: a headcanon take on Chairman Rose's backstory starting 22 years before the events of the game.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. High Horsepower

"The reputation of a thousand years may be determined by the conduct of one hour."

__ __ ___ ___ __ __

The crowd roared as the Sucker Punch landed and sent Aegislash flying back into its pokeball. Despite the sudden knockout, it’s trainer whispered his thanks to his partner. The Aegislash had managed to knock out two of the Champion's Pokémon and had done significant damage to the remaining mon. Despite this accomplishment, though, both trainers were on their last Pokémon. In the end, the intense battle had come down to a 1v1. 

As the challenger sent out his last Pokémon, the crowd's voices fell into a whisper. He had been saving the best for last.

"Go Lum, let's finish this!"

As the red light materialized, the massive Pokémon slammed its feet into the ground and let out its signature cry. A giant Copperajah vs a dexterous Skuntank. 

Challenger and Champion locked eyes for the last time as the final fight began. The loud cheers of the crowd almost drowned out their orders but the Pokémon heard their trainers well enough.

"Lum, High Horsepower!"

"Fluffy, get close enough for a Flamethrower!"

Despite the steely determination on both of their faces, the crowd had already anticipated a winner. While the move wasn’t STAB, a High Horsepower from a Copperajah was no laughing matter and Skuntank was already weak to Ground. And even if the Stunktank managed to pull off the flamethrower, the Copperajah was fresh on the field. The fight had already been won.

But Pokémon battles are never quite straight forward.

As the Copperajah slammed its feet into the ground, the tremor broke the surface of the stadium field and as crust ripped forward, there was little room for escape. But the Champion's pokémon hadn’t just hatched from an egg and the move High Horsepower wasn’t exactly known for its accuracy. The crowd gasped as the Skuntank maneuvered around the rocks and continued its charge for the Copperajah. 

"You can take it Lum! Use Iron Head at the next opportunity!"

The Copperajah let out another cry as it steeled itself for the inevitable flames. For the planned offense, the metallic shine of its trunk was already sparkling as it readied it’s next attack. The Skuntank, still confident in its Trainer's orders, ignited the fumes around it and let out a terrible stream of fire. 

——The challenger knew the strength of his Pokémon quite well. The Copperajah standing in front of him, Lum, had once been a small Cufant. They had known each other for their whole lives and if he could be with anyone while he stood in front of thousands of people for the biggest battle of his life, no one could be better. That wasn’t even mentioning his other Pokémon partners: Mago, Coba, Kelpsy, Figy, Leppa. They had all helped him reach this point. He was here to win, they all were.——

So when his first Pokémon ever cried out in pain and fell backwards, the silence of the stadium seemed to stretch out for a millennia. 

It was a critical hit.

A OHKO.

As the Copperajah returned to its pokeball. The tension of the stadium could be felt. Even the Champion, who had entered the pitch as confident as could be, was dumbfounded. The Skuntank looked back at it’s trainer waiting for the usual celebration yell but it too was left alone in the silence of the aftermath. The announcer had no witty line. The crowd had no booming cheers. Even the gym leaders, who had been both excited and slightly jealous of both combatants, had nothing to say. The greatest city of Galar had come to a stand still.

But silence could not last forever. Footsteps. The Champion looked up from the wreckage in front of them to the challenger who had lost. The crowd watched the runner up of the ultimate competition walk forward to his opponent, reach out his hand, and say,

"It was a great fight. My Pokémon and I had a wonderful time fighting you. Thank you for the battle."

For a moment, the Champion studied their opponent's face. He was smiling and despite it not reaching his eyes, there was a true sense of geniality to his words. 

In the moment, it was enough.

The Champion flashed their signature grin before taking the young man's hand. "Yeah! That was a fight for the history books alright! We had a great time fighting you too, right Skuntank?"

The Pokémon let out a cry of approval and to fit the friendly energy of the pitch, the crowd roared. What a Champion Time it had been!


	2. U-turn

As the after battle celebrations began, the runner up secretly slipped away from the crowd and began making his way to the exit. His Pokémon were already healed and celebrations of this scale hadn’t really been his sort of thing. He had already told the Champion of his departure and they were kind enough to let him go without a fuss. They understood how pressuring the crowd could get and there was bound to be a number of reporters wanting interviews. If it wasn’t his scene, it simply wasn’t his scene. The Champion would cover for him and would even send the prize money and trophy to his house personally. Nothing was getting lost in the mail, no siree.

However, things never seemed to go completely to plan and just as he exited the stadium, a familiar voice came from behind him, "Leaving already? I thought you’d appreciate the attention."

"Well, you know me Lark. I adore the crowd as I enjoy the clouds. From a distance."

The other finalist laughed. "Hardly...You might have beaten me to the finish Rose but I can read you all the same..." He paused and for a second, the silence of the stadium returned. "Are you okay Rose? I mean, I can’t imagine how all that felt. I mean you should’ve—"

"Won? It’s fine Lark. In hindsight, I should’ve expected the crit to happen. Heck, if I had taught Lum earthquake I probably would’ve won. But sometimes, things simply don’t work out. I’m not going to be a sore loser for it."

Despite his words, however, he still refused to face him. He knew he had his reasons of course. The Pokémon League in Galar was quite different from what the other regions practiced. It was a tournament. A competition that only a few could participate in. Getting in was difficult enough but beating all eight gyms was its own challenge. They had made it though and while his dreams were dashed before the final bracket, Rose had made it to the top only to fail at the last second. The scale between their failures was minuscule but one definitely held more weight than the other. Or at least, he was trying to give Rose some credit. 

Not enough credit to get him off his back, though. "Then why are you leaving in the middle of the night? 'I’m not going to be a sore loser,' my foot."

This managed to struck some sort of nerve, however, he was not met with any sort of glare. Instead, he was met with the same smile he had seen on the widescreen minutes before. It was enough to fool the crowd but not him. 'It was a great fight.' What a joke...That asshat of a Champion didn’t deserve anything.

And worse yet, if the rumors were true...that so-called Champion was going to keep their winning streak.

The fake smile fell away as Rose's brows furrowed. "I recognize that expression Lark. Don’t do something stupid." 

Was he that obvious? "Give me some credit Rose. I’m not going to deck the guy cause they got some crit but at the very least, you’ve got to admit it was bullshit."

"You’re only upset because I beat you and then lost. If you’re pride is so wounded why don’t you challenge them next year. Don’t go dragging me into this." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I’m going to head home now. It’ll probably take me a few hours to get to Turffield if I hurry now."

"Turffield?! What the heck are—?!"

Before he could finish the thought, a series of voices rose from the stadium.

"Is that the second place finalist!"

"The trainer with the Copperajah?"

"The one who uses Steel Types!"

"Hey! Can we get an interview?"

"Can you autograph this league card?! And this hat too?"

As the crowd of people began rapidly approaching them, Rose quickly released his Copperajah and held onto its trunk, "Mush Lum! Let’s get out of here!"

"Hey! Don’t just abandon me here!" 

As his rival fumbled for an appropriate ride Pokémon, Rose gave him a curt smile before saluting him. "Thanks for holding down the fort Lark. Make sure to tell them how great of a rival I am!"

While he stood there dumbfounded by the turn of events, Lum charged forward and out of reach of the approaching crowd. Lark was not so lucky.

"Rival? Are you friends with Rose?!"

"I wouldn’t say that exactly—"

"Did you grow up as friends or did you guys meet in the League?"

"We met during the League—?"

"Weren’t you the guy who lost in the finals?"

"Hey! It was a close—"

"Can you get your rival to sign an autograph?"

"What’s wrong with my—?! Curse you Rose!" His curses were drowned out by crowd, however, and the duo were already out of hearing distance. 

As the two ran across the bridge, Lum did its best to keep itself centered and away from the few pedestrians that were crossing. If any of them recognized the Pokémon or its trainer, none of them had the bravery to stop the charging Copperajah. They eventually made it pass the bridge and as they came into the main part of the city, Rose quickly redirected their escape to one of the nearby parks. As they slipped into the tree line, the Copperajah finally slowed its pace allowing its trainer to hop off. 

The park was rather quaint compared to the rest of the booming metropolis. There was no flash photography or nosy fans. In this part of the city, the wild Pokémon could be heard, no longer drowned out by the Stadium's cheers and chants. It reminded them both of Home a little bit. Turffield's rolling hills and tall stone monuments still won out of course but after a year of traveling from city to city, any peace was appreciated. 

Rose would’ve sat down to enjoy it but there was still something occupying his mind. A gaze and a familiar one at that. It wasn’t like Lark's glare. No. It was more quieter, more somber. 

One that was completely unjustified.

He turned to face his beloved Pokémon and immediately guilt stuck his heart. "Lum, what happened today was not your fault. It was a crit. You couldn’t have done anything to avoid it. I mean your species is not exactly known for its dodging capabilities."

"Phloon..."

"Hey! Don’t say that. High Horsepower is a very difficult move to aim and it was the Skuntank that avoided it. I should’ve told you to use Iron Head instead. If I had ordered you to charge, it would’ve caught them off guard. It was my fault really."

At that, the Copperajah immediately went into cuddle mode. As a Cufant, Lum would always comfort Rose by wrapping its trunk around his arm. It had been cute then but now that it was a Copperajah...well, it didn’t hold the exact same charm. So as the Copperajah wrapped its trainer in its best version of a hug, Rose could only still to avoid getting crushed.

"I really appreciate the thought Lum...But can you let me go now?.." The Copperajah let out a sad cry which made him relent, "Okay...Just for a few more seconds..."

Eventually, Lum was finished with the comfort hug and it released its trainer as gently as it could. He still gasped for air after he was released, though.

"Thanks Lum...I really appreciate...the sentiment..."

"Phloom!"

The Copperajah playfully rustled his hair before immediately grabbing his bag off his shoulders.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"Phloom." The Pokémon returned the bag willingly but its attention never strayed from it. As a familiar growling sound rumbled around them, the exact intention of the Copperajah came to light.

"Guess it’s been a while since any of us ate, huh?" he chuckled softly. "Well, I guess we’ve earned it well enough. We might’ve not made it all the way but we won together with this whole adventure!" As he released the rest of his Pokémon, he yelled out, "Dinner's on me tonight!"

He was met with several cries of approval and each one was worth more than any of the cheers from the Stadium.  
__ __ ___ ___ __ __

As his Pokémon settled down and returned to their respective pokéballs, Rose was finally alone. There was no nosy reporters or loud rivals. No intimidating gym leaders or chatty Champions. No stalking fans or so-called long lost relatives. Not even his Pokémon were with him in this moment. For the first time today, he was alone. 

A breath he didn’t even know he was keeping finally released itself from his lungs. He chuckled at the thought of it.

He really was an idiot wasn’t he. 

A critical hit. How surprising. Except it wasn’t. By all means, he should’ve expected it. Of course it was going to be crit, you idiot! The signs were all there! All the stupid signs. And yet...and yet, he hadn’t noticed it and he lost right at the end.

They were all wrong in the end. The Champion and crowd mocked it up to to chance. Lark blamed luck and Lum had blamed itself. 

Who they really should’ve blamed was him and his damn incompetency.

He kept that thought to himself, though, and just as quickly as the thought had come up, he crumbled it up and threw it away. There was no need to dwell on the past. In a few weeks, none of this would matter. Everyone would just move onto the next League Competition. Last year's runner up wouldn’t be important then.

A smile dawned on his face and this time, it was for no one but himself. It wasn’t the fake one he had given the Champion or Lark or the sympathetic one for Lum. The latter was genuine but not in the same vain as this one. No. This one was his little secret...and it would stay that way.

Now, then...where was he? Right, he needed to head to Turffield.

If he wanted to get there quickly, taking a Corviknight cab was his best bet. However, that was probably what people expected him to take. If he knew his fans or any fan in general, they would be stalking the cabs at the mere chance to meet their favorite trainer. Worse yet, everyone would then know where he was heading. He wanted to get to Turffield quickly, yes, but also quietly. No cabby then.

He technically could fly over to Turffield himself. He had the Corviknight for it and some experience flying one. What he lacked was a license and he had already been marked down for flying illegally once. Two strikes was two strikes too many and while he managed to pay the fine the first time, the second one would definitely be harsher.

Besides, Leppa was already asleep so flying himself wasn’t really an option after all.

That left one final option. The train. Because of how expansive the region was, the station was on a round-the-clock schedule so if he got there tonight, there might be a train there for him. Another advantage to taking the train was the lack of attention it got. Sure, all the League Challengers had arrived on it but once they entered the city, the station was pushed aside. It was a pedestrian form of transportation. It wasn’t as exciting as flying by Corviknight cabby or flying in general. What sort of trainer would take the train if the former options were so much more exhilarating? The answer was no one which worked perfectly in his favor.

A late night departure also meant fewer passengers to encounter. 

Train it was then and he’d take the Route 10 station just to be completely out of Wyndon. It was a great plan and this time, no one was getting in his way.

Of course, now he just had to get out of the city. Great.

Luckily, things managed to turn out well. He simply stuck to the park at first before walking through the few alleyways he could find leading towards the outskirts of the city. He had a few close calls with passing fans but he managed to get to Route 10 without anyone paying attention to him. The trainers that usually hanged out on the route were gone or safely tucked away in their tents. The wild Pokémon were also mostly asleep and the few he encountered were easily bribed with the leftover curry he had. He didn’t bother cleaning his supplies since he figured he would be home tonight. 

As he arrived at the station, the few attendants there barely batted an eye at him and as he stepped onto the train, no one else was in the carriage. When the train finally pulled out of the station, he quietly said goodbye the sleepy route he had only visited twice.

The view of Galar passing him by was not lost on him. He had been to all these places and now, he was heading home. If he had to look back on this whole journey, this adventure, he wouldn’t regret it in the slightest. This adventure had made him see Galar in a whole new light. He had loved the region because of the rolling fields of Turffield but now, he had seen it all. The coast of Hulbury, the scale of Hammerlocke, the unconventionality of Spikemuth...Each city, each route, stood out for one reason or another but each came together to form Galar. And that wasn’t even mentioning the people. 

The people of Galar were the greatest people in the world and they deserved everything that was good. He just knew they did. They were that wonderful.

But right now, he just wanted to be home. Several hours soon passed and when he finally arrived to Motorstoke, the night had settled in. Turffield didn’t have a station so the best way to get there was through Galar Mine No1. Luckily, he knew the place like the back of his hand and the wild Pokémon recognized him and allowed him to pass. When he finally arrived to Turffield, the town was as quiet as a Pichu. Compared to Wyndon, what the small town lacked in size was made up for in silence. He definitely preferred it and had come to appreciate during his journey.

As he arrived at the house he knew so well, he didn’t bother knocking. He knew his family would all be asleep. Instead, he reached under the mat, picked up the small key he knew was there, unlocked the door, and fell asleep on the couch.

When morning did come, he had a Perrserker on his chest and his family sitting by him. 

He was home.


End file.
